Chapter 102: What the Heck Did I Write? Complete Nonsense (Extended)

Lu Yang walked up the stairs; he didn't feel that doing so made him out of place.

Because the more you want to improve, the less you can go with the crowd, and the more you must be solitary.

Excellence is scarce precisely because it requires enduring hardships ordinary people cannot bear and suffering punishments they cannot endure.

In the troops, which member of the group called "Soldier King" hasn't been forged through trials, tempered into steel, shedding skin and flesh but not tears?

Lu Yang was very good at enduring hardship in his previous life, but those hardships lacked technical content; ninety‑nine percent of people could endure them if they tried.

Living another life and re‑enlisting, Lu Yang wants to stand out among tens or hundreds of thousands of ordinary soldiers, so he must study deeply and master more military skills and knowledge.

Only then will he have core competitiveness and be able to defeat more "opponents" in the future.

Stand higher, go farther.

And the training squad can precisely provide such conditions.

This is the sniper training squad, also the teaching unit's "Yama Hall," both aimed at better extracting ordinary soldiers' potential and capability.

The reading room here is all‑encompassing, housing many specialized military books; it is nothing like the basic "New Recruit Guide" in the New Recruit Company's reading room.

Lu Yang naturally was unwilling to pass up such an opportunity to gain extra exposure and learn more knowledge.

But when he reached the upstairs reading room, he found the lights on, clearly someone was inside.

He pushed the door open; Captain Guo Yongwen, a cigarette between his lips, sat at the desk with a sorrowful face.

He held a ballpoint pen, a stack of letter paper before him, and many paper scraps scattered on the floor.

Amid the swirling smoke, Lu Yang could even see the fine stubble sprouting like "spring bamboo shoots after rain."

Guo Yongwen seemed to age ten years in an instant, becoming gloomy and listless.

He resembled a middle‑aged man who had just been laid off, too ashamed to tell his family, hiding by the roadside to drown his sorrows in alcohol.

"Good morning, Captain."

"Hmm."

Guo Yongwen gave him a brief glance and nodded at him.

Lu Yang went to the bookshelf to look for books, his peripheral vision still on him.

Then he selected a military history book about major World II battles and sat opposite Guo Yongwen.

"Captain, what are you writing?"

"Writing a letter."

"To whom?"

"Ah......"

Guo Yongwen let out a heavy sigh, two puffs of extremely irritated smoke billowing from his nostrils: "It's for my girlfriend; we argued and broke up, she blocked all my contact methods. I can't reach her, so I want to write a letter to try to win her back."

Lu Yang leaned in curiously and asked, "So, have you decided how to write it?"

Guo Yongwen, biting the cigarette butt, looked at him with his exhausted old face, darkened eye bags, and blood‑shot eyes: "What do you think?"

Lu Yang, seeing his agonized expression, stifled a laugh and said, "W‑w‑ould you like help?"

Guo Yongwen gave him a cold stare: "Have you ever been in a relationship?"

"No."

"Then what do you understand?"

"But I've received love letters."

"Really?"

"From middle school to high school, the love letters in my drawer never stopped coming."

"Tch~"

Guo Yongwen rolled his eyes dramatically.

He wanted to say "pretty boy" but felt it was inappropriate.

Because he feared Lu Yang would become conceited; in Guo Yongwen's eyes, those three words have always been complimentary.

Explanation: young, fair‑skinned, handsome, often the favorite of wealthy older women!

Lu Yang, holding the book, prepared to leave: "Then write it yourself; write until you get married, but the groom isn't you."

Guo Yongwen's heart was pricked twice: "Don't go, help—help me, teach me how to write; my prose isn't good…"

Lu Yang turned back, using that initially contemptuous glance, and mocked, "Is this how you ask for a favor, without even saying 'please'?"

Guo Yongwen immediately flared his beard, eyes bulging, furious.

But to salvage his love, he forced himself to stand, pulling the seat beside him: "Comrade Lu Yang, please… teach me how to write it?"

Lu Yang swayed his head proudly: "Now that's more like it."

He plopped onto the stool and glanced at the few sentences he had written earlier.

'Cui Fen, I love you, I miss you, I miss you to the point I can't sleep, I miss you so much I want to sleep, I want to sleep with you…'

'Filthy, vulgar, nonsensical!'

'Want to sleep with you? Pah, vomit, I've never seen such shameless, lewd scum!'

'......'

Guo Yongwen, like a raw melon, was scolded until his face turned red and ears burned, unable to open his mouth.

The more arrogant and overbearing he was on the training field by day, the more pathetic he is now.

But to preserve his long‑standing love, he ultimately chose the pathetic over anger.

Lu Yang leaned slightly, tapped the table lightly with his fingers, closed his eyes and thought for a moment, and a gentle, soft melody rang in his mind.

"I say, you write."

"Okay."

"Dear Cui Fen, please forgive my rudeness, irritability, barbarism, and unreasonable fuss…"

Seeing him stare blankly without moving his pen, Lu Yang asked, "Write?"

Guo Yongwen's eye twitched, "Am I that terrible?"

Lu Yang glared at him, "Shut up, just write as I say!"

Guo Yongwen helplessly complied, "Alright, alright!"

Lu Yang's tone softened, his voice full of feeling: "I miss you a lot. Whenever my training ends, I sit on the earth mound watching the scorching sunset, and I always think of the jujube tree back home and your rosy, pretty face."

"I think of you every moment, yet the distance between us always saps my will."

"Military life is exhausting, training is harsh, but I know your waiting and guarding are a thousand times harder than mine."

"Loving a soldier must be very hard, very tormenting; I shouldn't have deceived you, nor made promises lightly."

"I haven't let down the troops, haven't let down the country, but I have let down you alone. The process of meeting and knowing you is the greatest luck of my life; I don't know what in this world could be more important than you."

"If you think I'm a liar, then I hope you can give me another chance to lie to you. I want to lie to you, to wear a wedding dress; I want to lie to you, to grow old together; I want to lie to you, for the rest of my life, three meals, four seasons…"

Guo Yongwen wrote with a scratchy pen, yet tears fell in a pattering rush.

Even this tough guy couldn't help being moved to tears, his big snot dripping, his eyes blood‑red.

"These, these are what I want to say; I just want her to know these!"

Lu Yang, seeing his pathetic look, turned his head toward the water dispenser and lifted his chin.

Guo Yongwen instantly understood, hurriedly hopped over to pour warm water into a paper cup.

Then he pulled a cigarette from the pack, bent over and handed it to Lu Yang, who this time did not refuse.

After placing it between his lips, Guo Yongwen quickly grabbed a lighter and click‑clicked it, lighting it for him.

"Any more? Any more?"

"Allow me to think about it?"

When thinking, one needs a little prop in hand.

Lu Yang lights the cigarette not to smoke, but to invite the novelist to possess him.

He racked his brain, recalling the urban novels he had read before.

In the end, he summoned a net novelist who excels at writing urban romantic entanglements, nicknamed "Liu Xia Hui, Unshaken in the Lap"!